Pandora's Box
by Zyre
Summary: Draco asks Ron for help after they graduate from Hogwarts. While trying to save the world, they both realize that there may really be more to life than shadows. Warnings for slashy themes and darkness.
1. bright prospects

Title: Pandora's Box   
  
Disclaimers: The characters aren't mine. I just borrowed them for play time. Promise. I'm not making any money.  
  
Warnings: This is an adventure story, so violence and swearing will be featured. It will also eventually be slashy, so please, if you don't like that, don't read it.  
  
Feedback: Is quite wonderful, and most appreciated.   
  
Summary: Draco asks Ron for help with taking out the Death Eaters. While trying to save the world, they both realize that there may really be more to life than shadows.  
  
I've got to thank Bec from the get go, for being such a wonderful beta for me throughout this story. It just wouldn't be the same without her.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"Everything that is done in this world is done by hope."  
- Martin Luther  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
Ron woke to a light tapping on his door. "Ron, honey? Are you awake?" His mother's voice filtered through to him, and he mumbled an affirmation as he rolled out of bed. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting odd shadows about the room.   
  
"There has got to be more to life than this," he whispered groggily as he shed his boxers and climbed into the shower. ~I hate my job, and I hate waking up this fucking early for it.~ The warm water streaming down his body enlivened his tired muscles, and afterwards he dressed hastily, ignoring his reflection in the closet mirror.   
  
He shuffled down to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. Fred came in behind him and slapped him on lightly on the back.  
  
"G'morning sunshine!" he chirped.  
  
Ron glared at him. "Shut up, Fred. It's too early, and I'm not in the mood. And why are you here anyway?" The twins had their own flat, and yet they always seemed to be at home.   
  
Fred raised an eyebrow and took a step back. "Whoa, easy cobra. I just came over cause I miss listening to you whine so much. Hope I didn't ruin your perfect little pity party."  
  
Ron felt his cheeks burning with anger, wishing he could think of something to say. Just then, their father walked in and Fred began talking to him about some meeting with the ministry. ~I guess that's why he's here.~ He turned his back on them and apparated to work.   
  
He picked his way through his tiny, cluttered office, opening the curtain on the only window in the room. He sat down at his desk with a sigh and looked forlornly at the piles of work stacked before him. The small window cast barely enough light to read by, but using another light spell was out of the question. Mr. Thompson would not have his employees wasting valuable resources when there was a perfectly bright sun available.   
  
Picking up a stack of folders, he set to work filing. He mumbled a few choice curses in the direction of an aide bringing in yet another pile of work. ~I'm gonna go blind in here~ he thought as he strained to read a tiny label. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled but kept going.  
  
  
**********  
  
  
Harry opened the door to Ron's office and quietly stepped in, trying not to disturb him. Ron glanced up, recognizing his presence with a brief nod, and then turned back to his work. Harry took a moment to look around the small room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. He noticed a number of small charred areas where lighting spells had burnt out. ~How can he read like this? ~ The office was scattered with files and crumpled up pieces of paper. He turned back to Ron and sat down in the only other chair.   
  
Harry was worried about his friend. Ron had been acting strangely ever since he had gotten this job; he very rarely cracked jokes and didn't even talk very often. Over the last five months he had become more and more detached. Harry had been very busy working, but he had still had time to notice that Ron had stopped socializing entirely.   
  
"Why don't you put on another light?" Harry asked, trying to make conversation.   
  
Ron glanced up at him and looked around the room. "They don't work too well, and I want to save them for when I really need them. Like evenings. Plus I'm not allowed to."   
  
Harry shook his head. Ginny had compared Ron's work ethic to Percy's not long ago, something that would have seemed impossible just half a year ago at graduation. This Ron seemed to care almost too much about his work.   
  
"So, Ron, how has work been treating you lately?" Harry asked cautiously. He got an instant response, and was a little surprised. His best friend hadn't reacted to anything in such a long time that the quick jerk of his hand and the snap of his head were like lightning. Ron was staring down at his now folded hands, and a dark line had formed between his eyebrows.   
  
"It's all right, I guess," Ron said, shrugging. "Mr. Thompson said that it should get more interesting after a few months. I guess I'll just have to wait it out. Or quit. I might do that instead."   
  
Harry couldn't believe that Ron just said that. "You...you wanna quit? Just like that?" he asked, too surprised to say anything else. After all the work that Ron had done for this job, Harry couldn't believe that he would want to just give it up.   
  
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I wanna quit just like that. When I got this job I thought it would be something that I could earn advancement in. Something that would eventually pay off. This isn't one of those jobs. Besides, Harry, I don't think that you have the slightest idea how it feels to be stuck behind a desk all day reading letters from idiots who have nothing better to do than complain. You have a job that at least requires small amounts of movement." He shook his head and stared down at his desk.   
  
Harry knitted his brows together, sadness welling up inside of him. He looked at the small painting just over his friend's head. "Ron, you don't have to quit your job just because it's boring. Think this through with me for a minute. You're eighteen years old. You're six months out of school. What kind of job were you expecting to get? There isn't much else out there. I only got my job because of public relations, Ron. That's it. They don't want me for anything else. So cheer up, man, it's not so bad, ya know?" He thought he had done pretty well with that, and looked down at Ron. His best friend was studying him intently.   
  
"Yeah, you might be right. I just get really frustrated. It's hard." Ron shrugged, and Harry sat back in his chair, pleased that he had been able to help his friend.   
  
"Well," he said solemnly, "now that that's settled, I've got some bad news." Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. Harry continued, ignoring the interruption. "Malfoy died last night. There was some sort of explosion in his house. The ministry thinks it was probably a group of angry Death Eaters out for some midnight revenge. It's hard to know, though."   
  
Ron snorted and reached for his cup, holding it out in a parody of a toast. "Well, here's to the biggest jackass in the history of the world. May he rest in everlasting damnation." Ron took a long drink of water, his eyes glinting sarcastically. Harry frowned. Despite Draco's temper and inherent nastiness, he had been cleared of all suspicion. However, Ron still hated him. It didn't follow too well, Harry thought, and it made him angry.   
  
Ron sobered when he noticed Harry's disapproval. "Hey, I'm sorry. I know the old boy was a good sport at times. He will be truly missed. I haven't got anyone to piss and moan about anymore. Wow, I feel...bereft." Harry shook his head and stood to leave, more angry and worried than he had before. He said goodbye quickly and hurried from Ron's dark office. ~Why is this bothering me so much? It makes no sense.~ His thoughts rambled aimlessly as he walked back to the Ministry.   
  
  
**********  
  
  
Ron glared at the door as it closed behind Harry. He knew that he was being petty, but he didn't care. It was just so damn hard. He'd helped Harry through every life-threatening situation he had encountered since they met. And here he was, tossed aside for the sake of some public relations crap. He balled his fists and rested his forehead on them. He had a pounding headache.   
  
"Why is it," he whispered, "that I can do everything right, and still get shoved out of the way like a worthless thing. Harry wouldn't be alive to take that PR job if it weren't for me and what do I get? Nothing!" He pushed a stack of papers onto the floor, watching one drift down to join its scattered brothers. He stood and began to pace in front of his desk, avoiding the mess he had just made.   
  
~What would I do if Harry weren't here? I wonder what I would be. Everything I've ever done has been a result of his friendship. I wouldn't even have this job. I'm not even entirely me. But who isn't a product of their peers? I just wish...no, I don't, it's pointless to waste time with wishing. I need to be more realistic. I guess things could be a lot worse. And this light can't be good for my eyes.~ He sighed and stopped pacing, stooping to pick up some of his papers. He sat down and stared at the maps on his walls, thinking about what his life had turned into. He missed being in school, when the only thing he had to worry about was what evil thing Malfoy was plotting. Now he didn't even have Malfoy, a fact that didn't seem to fit right. Sure, the prat had been a complete waste of perfectly breathable oxygen, but then again...he just shouldn't be dead. Ron's thoughts wandered off, and he didn't get any more work done that day.   
  
  
**********  
  
  
Ron looked at his watch as he unlocked his office. "2:34 in the morning. Why do I always remember things in the middle of the night?" He shook his head, stepped inside, and released a startled curse as he slipped on a discarded piece of paper. Stooping to retrieve it, he found Draco's obituary. "Why is this here?" he asked out loud, furrowing his brow. ~Harry must have left it.~  
  
"Maybe you couldn't bear to let me go, Weasley," a cold voice drawled from across the room. Ron yelled and jumped backwards, accidentally slamming the door shut with his shoulder.   
  
"What the *FUCK* are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron yelled. Silence descended upon the room, giving the air a thick, heavy feeling. He recovered slightly from the shock and whispered a light spell, creating jumping shadows. Draco was setting in the chair behind Ron's desk, his gray eyes studying Ron intently. Ron shook his head, surprise replaced with seething anger. "I asked you a question. What are you doing here? Also, how did you know I'd be coming here tonight?" His voice cut through the silence like a razor.   
  
Draco smiled coldly. "I was going to wait for you to get here in the morning, actually. I just got lucky. And I need your help, Weasley." This statement threw Ron off balance for a moment, and he inhaled sharply. Draco continued, seeming not to notice the slight interruption. "Oh, believe me, if there were anyone else in the universe that I could ask, I would. Unfortunately, there isn't." He paused and looked up at Ron, who still couldn't believe that Draco had come to him for help.   
  
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and stepped towards the desk Draco sat behind. "What could a dead man possibly want help with?" he asked, pressing his palms into the wood of the desk and leaning forward to look Draco in the eye. "And why should I trust you?"   
  
"I'm not dead, idiot, in case your skills of observation haven't improved since we left school," Draco said, sneering. Ron rolled his eyes and sat down heavily in the chair Harry had sat in earlier.   
  
"This is gonna take awhile, I see," he said getting more comfortable. Draco glared at him.   
  
"Quiet, Weasley. Anyway, what I'm really aiming for here is the destruction of the Death Eaters. I mean if you think about it, they're Voldemort's source of power. Without them he's nothing. And there isn't really any reason you should trust me. Don't ask stupid questions."   
  
"Wait, wait. I find it hard to believe that you are suddenly so interested in saving the world and fighting for peace and justice, Malfoy. So come on, what are you really wasting my time for? And that wasn't a stupid question." Ron sat back folding his hands together and watching Draco's thin mouth twist into a grin.   
  
"Not as thick as all that, are we now?" He laughed shortly at Ron's angry countenance. "Well, you would be right to assume that I've got ulterior motives. Why shouldn't I? What I really want is to be remembered forever. Immortality, after a fashion."   
  
"So why don't you go with Voldemort? Isn't that one of his little deals? 'Stick with me and live forever'?" Ron interrupted.   
  
"Uh huh, yeah, his idea of living forever is serving him your whole miserable existence. I'm not really about that. Draco Malfoy really only fights for Draco Malfoy, along with the occasional innocent kitty or baby duck." Ron gave a snort of laughter. Draco glared at him for a moment, then smiled.   
  
"Right," Ron said after a moment, "this brings us back to the original question. What does this have to do with me?" He enunciated each word as he said the last sentence. Draco nodded.   
  
"Well, the way I figure it, every superhero needs a sidekick. That's what it has to do with you. Come on, you aren't actually happy here, are you? Working a menial job, watching everyone that you have ever known advance and get wonderful expensive things? I might have been a jackass most of the time that we were in school, but I paid attention, too. Your wonderful pal Harry was constantly overshadowing you." Draco paused for a moment, and Ron was too shocked to reply. ~How could he know that? I never even told my friends about that. And I *like* my friends."~ He felt a headache forming behind his eyes.   
  
Draco continued with a small smile. "When I started planning all of this, I realized that I would have to have help, and not from any old idiot either. You struck me as being the logical choice, simply because you haven't got much to lose, and you have experience in dealing with these sorts of situations. Of course, you'll have to die like I did. There's no getting around that one, sorry. But it's not so bad after you get used to it. Come on, it'll be an adventure that you can call your own, not Harry's."   
  
Ron stared into the corner, his thoughts turning back to their days at school. He couldn't think of a time that he had gone on an adventure without Harry. But then, they were best friends, why shouldn't they have done everything together? He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. ~Can I just leave everything? Can I stay?~   
  
"What are you planning to do, Malfoy? Why should I leave everything I have just to help you out? I don't trust you as far as I can kick you! Make me believe you." Ron stared straight into Draco's eyes, trying to get a glimpse of feeling in those cold gray eyes. Draco grinned.   
  
"You don't trust me? Why ever not?" He paused as Ron laughed shortly. "Anyway, what I plan on doing first is getting some polyjuice potion. During my years living with a Death Eater, I was able to gather quite a collection of bits and pieces of my father's friends."   
  
Ron grimaced. "That's really sick and weird, Malfoy," he interrupted.   
  
Draco glared at him. "Shut up, Weasley. Anyway, there are an infinite number of possibilities with that." Ron rolled his eyes. Draco saw him and grinned. "Hey, to prove to you that you can trust me, I'll give you the name of my source for magical plants. Neville Longbottom. Go ask him anything you want, he knows most of my secrets. Oh, and show him this." Draco reached inside his robes and pulled out a creased photograph. He reached across the desk, handing it to a startled Ron.   
  
Looking at the picture, Ron did a double take. Smiling up at him and waving were Draco and Neville, surrounded by tall ferns and sunshine. Ron could make out greenhouse glass in the background. He had never seen either one looking as happy and *alive* as they did in that picture, their eyes bright and warm. He looked up at Draco, hardly believing that the person sitting in front of him was the same person. "You...you and Neville are this close? But I thought you hated him!" Ron said as he looked back down at the image in his lap. Draco smiled, this time softly and almost sadly.   
  
"Yes, well, I didn't know him then. I never would have imagined it, trust me, but he is the easiest person in the world to talk to about things. Plus, he grows the best selection of illegal plants in the country. But don't tell anyone that! He'd be pissed as hell." Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing. Draco Malfoy actually got along with Neville Longbottom? Fumbling, bumbling, silly, Neville? ~Has the whole world gone insane? What the Hell is Neville doing selling illegal plants?~   
  
"How did you guys meet?" he asked, looking up across the desk at Draco. Draco shrugged.   
  
"Well, he helped me out of a crunch at a bar not long after graduation. I figured I'd give him a chance to get along with me, and it worked. Despite the fact that he thinks I'm an insensitive prig most of the time." He shrugged. "What does he know?"   
  
Ron sat very still, trying to get a grasp on the situation. ~What was Neville doing in a bar?~ The thought of Neville stumbling around drunkenly made Ron snicker. He just couldn't image quiet, mild-mannered Neville helping Draco. With anything. Ever.   
  
And yet, it was insane enough to make sense.   
  
Ron closed his eyes. His head was starting to hurt worse. After a few minutes, he reached across the desk, handing the photo back to Draco. "All right, I'll do it." He said suddenly, surprising himself with the steady tone in his voice. His whole body shook.   
  
Draco looked stunned for a moment. His eyes grew wide, and his jaw fell. "Whoa, you don't want to like sleep on it or anything? This is a pretty big decision to make, you know. I haven't even told you a fifth of the details you need. And...."   
  
"Hey," Ron interrupted, shaking his head, "don't discourage me, I've had a long day. If I've changed my mind in the morning I'll tell you. Besides, anything beats this job, even spending time with a bastard like you." He smiled and stood. He stared into Draco's eyes for a moment. "Oh, but none of that 'sidekick' bull. Partners 50/50, got it?"   
  
Draco shook his head. "I'll owl you tomorrow, then," he said, and disapparated, leaving Ron alone in his office to contemplate the decision he had just made. ~Good God, I'm in for it now. I can't believe I agreed to that.... Well, at least I won't be bored any more.~ Ron felt oddly alive for the first time in a long time. He smiled and picked up the papers he had come for, whispering the light off as he left. 


	2. alliance

Disclaimer and warnings in chapter 1.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"Honor begets honor; trust begets trust; faith begets faith; and hope is the mainspring of life."  
- Henry L. Stimson  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
  
The warmth of the sun woke Ron the next morning. He slowly opened his   
eyes, expecting to see that the sky had changed color, or that his   
skin was now a lovely shade of green. He rolled out of bed,   
feeling lighter than he had in days. Sitting on the edge of his bed,   
he really *looked* around his room. His things seemed to vibrate with   
color and life. A soft smile filled his eyes. ~Funny how one hour can   
change the way your world looks.~ Even the cloth of his robes felt   
different to him somehow, like every fiber was alive. He shivered,   
trying to shake the creepy feeling.   
  
Ron walked downstairs slowly, studying everything he saw. The magical   
calendar, brightly proclaiming it to be a Saturday; the clock showing   
him where is his family was; the horrid orange sofa his dad was so fond   
of. How had he lived with these things for so long and never really   
looked at them? He knitted his brows a bit as he sat down with a cup of   
Earl Grey, wondering how someone as truly horrid as Malfoy could make   
such a difference in his thinking. He exhaled deeply, letting his head   
fall forward onto his folded arms. His mother touched his shoulder   
gently, speaking softly, soothingly.   
  
"Are you alright?" Her question surprised Ron, and he brought his   
face up, turning toward her with a small smile playing on his lips.   
  
"Yeah. In fact, I'm great. I think that I'm just far too trusting,   
mum. But I think...I think that's okay." He nodded and met her eyes   
steadily for a long moment. She quirked her eyebrows, and smiled back   
at him.   
  
"*I* don't see a problem with it," she said, and he laughed with her.   
  
He finished his tea and stood, stretching. "Yeah. It's going to be   
okay." He paused, grinning. "I'm going out for a bit, mum. I'll be   
back later." He walked out the back door, looking around and up at   
the sky. Marveling at how extraordinarily *blue* it was.   
  
His mother stared after him, chuckling softly to herself. "Of course   
that's okay Ron. Of course it is."   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
  
Ron stood in front of Harry's door, not sure how he had gotten there.   
A very large part of him was afraid to be standing here. But then he   
remembered that, for some unfathomable reason, Harry liked Malfoy.   
Well, at least respected him. And that was why he was standing in front   
of his best friend's door, not knocking, but not leaving either. He   
still couldn't help but wonder if Harry would understand. He thought   
back to the day before, when he had suggested leaving his job, and the   
way Harry had reacted. He lowered his eyes and turned to leave, not   
wanting to deal with that again. The door opened behind him, however,   
casting light over Ron's shoulder. He turned and found Harry standing   
in the doorway staring at him.   
  
"What are you doing, Ron?" he asked.   
  
"I just. Well, I needed to talk to you. About. Stuff." Ron was having a   
hard time articulating. Harry blinked at him.   
  
"Why didn't you knock, then?" came the next, logical question. Ron   
opened his mouth to speak, but Harry raised his hand and silenced   
him. "Never mind. Come on in." He stepped aside, and Ron, after a   
brief hesitation, moved past him and into the house. "Do you want   
some coffee or tea or something?" he asked.   
  
Ron nodded. "Coffee would be nice." He followed Harry into the   
kitchen and leaned back against one of the counters. Sunlight poured   
in from skylights, and large windows framed the spacious room. Ron   
cast his eyes about, trying to absorb as much heat as he could. He   
thought if he looked closely enough, he would have been able to see   
each individual ray of sunlight bouncing around the room, filling it   
with vibrant energy. He glanced at Harry and watched him bustle about,   
putting things together and picking up. Neither spoke for several long   
moments. Ron was just wondering how to bring up Malfoy, when Harry   
spoke.   
  
"I'm actually really glad you're here," he said. Ron felt the heavy   
silence break like something tangible, falling at his feet in broken   
shards. He exhaled, relieved.   
  
"Why's that?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but feeling tense.   
  
Harry handed Ron a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter   
opposite him. "I've been meaning to talk to you. About yesterday." He   
was staring into his cup. He looked as if he were trying to put the   
little he had learned in divination class to good use. "When I went to   
your office. I ended up being a real jerk to you. I wasn't really   
feeling too good and I know that's no excuse for being an arse to my   
best friend, but I just wanted to let you know that I am sorry." He   
paused and looked up.   
  
Ron was quite speechless. He dropped his jaw and blinked   
enthusiastically, hoping that would be enough for his friend to know   
that he accepted the apology. Harry just glanced at him and continued.   
  
"Right well, I've been thinking about that since then. And. Well. I   
realized that you can't stick with something that doesn't make you   
happy. So maybe you should start looking for a new job or something.   
And I'll be more then willing to help you look for one. There might   
even be something at the ministry..." he trailed off, and looked up at   
Ron.   
  
Ron relaxed, and burst into a huge grin. "I was actually offered a job   
last night. That's why I came over. I wanted to talk to you about it.   
There are a few ... undesirable aspects to it." Harry raised one   
eyebrow, and Ron took that as his cue to continue. "It's going to be   
kind of like free lance crime fighting." The eyebrow stretched a little   
further up Harry's forehead, and Ron laughed. Harry joined him, and   
after a few minutes of companionable silence, he spoke.   
  
"So, tell me about these 'undesirable aspects'," he said. Ron began   
to chew on his bottom lip and hesitated before answering.   
  
"Well, it'll be really dangerous. Fighting and stuff. Probably   
nothing I haven't done before, with you though. I think. And I'll have   
to be gone for most of it. It's not like a stay-at-home kind of job.   
I'll be out, probably, months at a time. At least. If I don't die. And   
I'll have to keep less-than pleasant company." He made a face, thinking   
of dying and Malfoy. "But, I dunno, I think it would be more along the   
lines of what I want. What will make me happy. I. I just don't know.   
What do you think, Harry?"   
  
Harry was silent for a moment, a look of quiet concentration on his   
face. "Ron, I think if it will make you happy then you should do it.   
I mean, honestly, I haven't heard you speak this avidly about   
anything for months. I was starting to worry that we had lost the   
real Ron. I think anything, even something as dangerous as this sounds,   
is worth it if I get to see my best friend come out of it." He smiled   
at Ron, who was rather taken aback at the amount of feeling Harry had   
for him.   
  
"Uh, thanks," he said, still trying to sort everything out in his   
head. "That helps a lot, actually." His bottom lip went in between   
his teeth again, unnoticed.   
  
A racket at the nearest window startled him, and he looked out to   
find a large brown barn owl hovering in front of him. Harry, also   
startled, opened the window and let the bird in. It flew straight to   
Ron, proudly showing off its leg. A small bit of parchment was rolled   
up and tied to it. Ron's name was written on the letter in heavy,   
scrawling letters, and he knew right away that it was from Malfoy. He   
quickly looked up and found Harry staring at him questioningly.   
  
"It's just something about this new job I'm looking at," Ron said   
quickly, pocketing the note and letting the owl go. "Listen, Harry.   
Thanks for everything, but I really should get going. I've got some   
other stuff I need to get done today. But I'll talk to you later?"   
  
Harry nodded and followed him to the door. "See you around then.   
Good luck, I hope this works out for you!" he called, and Ron turned   
at the bottom step and waved shortly. Harry smiled and closed the   
door.   
  
A ways down the street, Ron pulled the note from his pocket. It   
looked like Malfoy had been in a hurry when he wrote it.   
  
  
"Weasley,   
Meet me by the lake down the street from The Leaky Cauldron. Right   
now. I'll be waiting. Come alone. We'll see if you still have any   
guts or not.   
M."   
  
  
Ron knew the lake; he remembered going there when he was younger to   
watch the swans. He crumpled the paper into a tiny ball and   
tossed it in the nearest trashcan. He wasn't too far from The Leaky   
Cauldron, so he decided to enjoy the day some more and walk.   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
  
Ron found Draco sitting on a bench near the edge of the water. He had   
a cloak pulled tightly around his body, and a hood hiding his pale   
hair. A tree nearby cast dark shadows over his still form. Ron walked   
up and stood next to him. "Don't you have an eagle owl?" he asked.  
  
Draco looked up at him. "That's kind of obvious, isn't it? I had to use   
something more inconspicuous." He stood to leave.   
  
"Whoa, where are you going?" Ron asked the retreating figure. Draco   
paused and turned slightly.   
  
"Are you coming or aren't you, Weasel? I didn't bring you here to sit   
and chat, you know," he drawled snidely. Ron narrowed his eyes, but   
caught up to walk alongside Draco. They were silent as they moved   
around the lake, going away from the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley.   
Finally, Draco spoke.   
  
"So, I see you haven't changed your mind, Weasel. I'm rather   
surprised. I figured you'd get cold feet."   
  
Ron looked down at him. "What's that supposed to mean? Why wouldn't I   
have come? I told you I would." Draco sneered at him.   
  
"I'm just saying that you tend to be pretty impetuous." The sneer on   
his face deepened, and Ron felt his cheeks flush with anger.   
  
"Listen, you arrogant ass, I never go back on my word." Ron flushed   
with anger. Random thoughts flitted through his mind. ~Why does he   
keep assuming to know me? He doesn't know anything about Me.~   
  
Draco led him into a small restaurant. There were only a few   
customers, as the noon hour was almost over. "Okay, listen. You can   
holler and shout all you want when we're alone, Weasley, but right   
now I'm not even supposed to be alive. So if you could try and hold   
your temper for just a bit..." Draco's voice was low and   
condescending. Ron grabbed Draco's shirt and slammed him against a   
wall.   
  
"Go. To. Hell." He accented each word, trying to make his voice sound   
menacing.   
  
"That was uncalled for and childish, Weasel." Draco drawled. Ron let   
go of his shirt, and Draco relaxed a bit.   
  
Ron stepped back, and without any warning, punched Draco in the face   
with every bit of strength and anger he could muster. He smiled   
darkly when he heard Draco's nose break and saw blood blossom up and   
onto the pale skin. He stepped back. Suddenly, Draco launched off of   
the wall and tackled him. Ron doubled over as Draco collided into his   
stomach. They crashed into an empty table, spilling silverware and   
napkins across the floor.   
  
Someone was yelling at them, but Ron didn't care because he found   
himself sitting on Draco's chest. ~A very well toned chest...~ He was   
punching the slight form repeatedly. Suddenly, to his great surprise,   
Draco pushed him off. They stood facing each other. Draco shoved the   
taller boy as hard as he could. Ron stumbled and ran into the wall; it   
swung away from him and he nearly lost his balance. The door he had   
fallen through swung shut in front of him, and then open again as Draco   
came running through and pushed him again. Ron fell on his back. He   
turned and found himself staring under a bathroom stall at a pair of   
distinctly female legs.   
  
"Whoa!" he said, and the woman screamed. Draco's eyes grew huge; he   
turned and made a mad dash for the door. Ron jumped to his feet and   
followed closely behind. ~Behind...he has a nice behind...don't think   
about that!~ He noted the glares the two of them received from the few   
people still in the diner, but brushed them off as he quickly followed   
Draco through the back door of the restaurant.   
  
They stumbled out into the alley and hit the far wall, sliding down   
until they were sitting next to each other, their shoulders touching.   
Ron shivered slightly at the contact. Draco wiped some blood from his   
lips, and then smiled wryly.   
  
"I sure hope you feel better for that, you ass." He was breathing   
heavily, and began to mutter a healing spell for himself.   
  
Ron was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and a small   
smile on his lips. "Shhh..." he said, his smile growing the slightest   
bit. Draco turned to him. Ron felt the warmth in his shoulder shift,   
and his extremities tingled a bit.   
  
"What?" he asked, sounding slightly annoyed. Ron opened his eyes and   
looked straight ahead.   
  
"I was memorizing the look on your face when I broke your nose. I'm   
placing it on my list of moments of supreme joy. Right next to the   
time you turned into The Amazing Bouncing Ferret." He sighed   
contentedly.   
  
Draco's eyes narrowed, and then he started to laugh. "Fuck you!" he   
said, shaking with laughter. Ron suppressed laughter of his own.   
  
"No," he said, shaking his head. He stood to leave, turning away from   
Draco and speaking under his breath. "Not now." He began to walk   
toward the street, still smiling. Draco raised an eyebrow and jumped   
up after him.   
  
"What was that?" he asked, catching up to Ron. The taller boy was   
looking up and down the street, checking their path.   
  
"Where are we going?" Ron asked, acting like he hadn't heard Draco's   
question. Draco grabbed his sleeve.   
  
"Hey, was that an offer, Weasley?" he drawled, his voice dripping   
with sarcasm. Ron blushed but continued to ignore him.   
  
"We have to get out of here before any authorities show up. I don't   
fancy spending any time in a Muggle jail, thank you." He   
began to walk swiftly in the direction they had started in before   
their brief interruption.   
  
Draco walked beside him, still smirking. He pulled the hood of his   
robes back up over his head, covering the silver-white hair and   
shrouding his face in shadow. He got a few odd stares as they moved   
through the crowd; people unused to seeing others in hooded robes.  
  
Ron glanced at him, then forward again. ~Why did I say that?~ he   
wondered. ~...I wonder if he really would? GAH! Cut it out, Weasley!   
Concentrate! This is *NOT* the time to be thinking about ... that.~   
His rambling thoughts were cut off as Draco suddenly pushed him   
through the twelve-foot brick wall next to them. "What!" he cried   
in surprise. He looked behind him and saw Draco come through as well.   
Then he looked forward and what he saw took his breath away.   
  
They were standing in a small yard teeming with plant-life, despite the   
fact that it was mid-November. Several large weeping willows provided   
shade for overflowing flower gardens. Ron saw flowers of every color,   
shape, and size. Thick vines crawled up the wall they had come through,   
weaving intricate patterns over the rough bricks. White lilac bushes   
were scattered around a small building directly in front of them. A   
pleasant, earthy smell wrapped itself around Ron, and once again he   
felt very *alive.* Like the air itself was charged with brilliant   
energy. He could feel the magic of the garden in every breath he took,   
a pure and perfect magic, the kind achievable only through the creation   
of life.   
  
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.   
  
Draco smiled, a genuine smile. Ron thought. Draco spoke. "This is   
Longbottom's garden. He sure does put a lot of energy in it. Come on."   
Ron followed him toward the house, slowly stopping every few steps to   
look at a flower or plant he had never seen before. He was leaned over   
admiring a tiny red blossom when he heard muffled voices and a soft   
laugh. Straightening, he turned and found Draco with his arms crossed   
over his chest talking to a laughing Neville Longbottom. Neville   
motioned to Ron to join them, so he picked his way gingerly down the   
overgrown cobblestone path.   
  
Neville took his hand in an enthusiastic shake. "Ron! It's so good to   
see you!" he said, his voice warm.   
  
Ron was slightly taken aback by the warmth of his reception. "Uh,   
thanks, Neville. It's good to see you too." He smiled back. Neville   
looked at the two of them for a moment, then nodded.   
  
"Come on in. I've got all the things you asked for ready, Draco. I   
just need to get them in a bag for you." He led them through the small,   
tidy house and into a large greenhouse. Neville closed the door, and   
Draco headed for a corner. Ron sighed and followed him, settling   
himself on a planter across from the only chair in the entire room,   
where Draco looked quite content.   
  
"So, do you like being dead?" Ron asked, trying to make conversation.   
  
Draco's lips twisted up into a tiny smile and he shrugged. "'Tis a   
consummation devoutly to be wished."   
  
Ron rolled his eyes. It seemed impossible to get any kind of straight   
answer from Draco.   
  
"You know what your problem is, Weasley?" Draco asked suddenly. Ron   
only shook his head. "Your problem is that you will always be second   
best. Everything about you screams it. I mean, you walk down the   
street trying to look shorter than whomever you are with, for God's   
sake. You, the tallest person known to man! When people look at you,   
they see someone who is second best. You really need to just get over   
it and relax a little. Enjoy your second best life. It'll add years to   
your second best existence."   
  
Ron racked his mind for something horrible to say in response. ~"Shut   
up, Malfoy" is really too childish a remark. Maybe "go to hell, Malfoy"   
would work better? Naw, that's just about as bad. How bout ... um ... ~   
  
"Weasley?" His thoughts were interrupted again by Draco's annoying   
drawl.   
  
He looked up, irritated. "What?" he snapped.   
  
Draco grinned at him. "If you would put the amount of energy into not   
taking offense at what I just said that you are putting into trying to   
think of something creative with which to insult me, you would already   
be much, much more relaxed. It's all in your perspective. See, you even   
expect yourself to be second best." Draco shook his head, clucking his   
tongue. Ron just stared, at a complete loss for words.   
  
~WHY do I think he's attractive?~   
  
Before he could remark, Neville showed up beside them and handed Draco   
a sack full of various green things. "There you go, Draco. Good luck   
with it." He turned to Ron. "It was nice seeing you again, Ron. You'll   
have to come back sometime and we can really talk. I've got company   
right now, though, can't leave him waiting all alone!" He grinned and   
waved and walked away.   
  
~Something about that kid is way different,~ Ron thought as he stood   
and walked with Draco back out to the garden. "So," he said out loud,   
"what do we do now?" He didn't really want to leave so suddenly; being   
in Neville's garden was very peaceful.   
  
Draco turned to him. "Well, I have to take this right over to my   
house." He held up the bad Neville had given him. "I suppose you should   
see it, though. Better sooner than later. Come on." Draco walked   
through the wall, and a very confused and irritated Ron followed.   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
TBC ^_^ 


	3. plans

Disclaimers and warnings in chapter 1.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
"Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart; and you'll never walk   
alone; you'll never walk alone."  
Oscar Hammerstein II  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
No sooner had they stepped out through Neville's wall than a huge   
explosion rocked the street. Draco lost his footing and fell back hard   
against Ron. He barely noticed; his eyes were darting around the   
street, trying to find the source of the blast. It was extremely   
difficult; people were running about in a blur of color and noise and   
confusion. He was being jostled from all directions as people scurried   
to get away from the danger. One young woman bumped into him and stared   
into his face, her eyes dark with terror. Draco had pulled himself up   
again, and was scanning the area just as frantically.   
  
Another explosion nearly knocked Ron off his feet. Draco had grabbed   
his arm and was dragging him down the street. They turned a corner,   
headed down a dark, dingy alley, and Ron realized with a sinking   
feeling that they were now headed toward the source of the commotion.   
They rounded another corner, and he saw what was left of Neville's   
greenhouse. An explosion had shattered all the glass, and half the wall   
had fallen in.   
  
Draco stopped short, and then darted back into the alley. Ron followed   
him, having seen a group of Death Eaters milling around the ruined   
building. They stood in a haphazard circle, all wearing long, dark   
robes; one of which had a green Dark Mark emblazoned on the back.   
Shouting erupted suddenly from the group, and Ron peeked around the   
corner to see what was happening. He watched as a second, smaller group   
exited the building with Neville's limp form floating in the middle. He   
swallowed thickly, weighing the odds of their survival if they   
attempted a rescue. ~There's no way we can get to him,~ Ron thought.   
  
Draco shoved him out of the way. His pale face lost even more color   
when he saw Neville. "Do you think we could take them?" he asked,   
without looking back.   
  
Ron shook his head. "No way. There's got to be at least fifteen of   
them. I could maybe, *maybe* take three. By surprise."   
  
Draco nodded, but said nothing. He turned back to look at the street,   
and Ron heard a series of pops indicating that the Death Eaters had   
left. Draco ran from the alley as soon as the coast was clear. Ron   
grabbed his arm quickly.   
  
"What are you going to do? There will be Ministry people swarming all   
over here in seconds!" he said, watching for people Apparating. Draco   
nodded glumly and fell back against the brick wall. Ron had no idea   
what to say or do. He let go of the other boy's arm, and looked back   
down the street.   
  
As Ron watched, another Death Easter exited Neville's. He quickly   
muttered "be right back" at Draco, then headed after the retreating   
figure. The man moved intently, easily parting the gathering crowds.   
Ron followed close behind, then mass of bodies making him nearly   
invisible.  
  
The Death Eater headed down into a subway station. He went up to the   
ticket window, and Ron quickly got in line behind him. He couldn't hear   
the mumbled destination, however. The ticket taker said something, and   
the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a messy wad, consisting,   
for the most part, of Muggle money. He slapped the pile onto the   
counter, grabbed his ticket, and hurried off, disappearing into the   
crowd. Ron stepped forward, and grabbed a small bit of white parchment   
that had fluttered to the ground, unnoticed by the Death Eater in his   
haste. The ticket man glared darkly at him, and Ron backed off, not   
wanting to cause any kind of commotion. People were still rushing about   
frantically, trying to find out what had happened; what that explosion   
had been. Ron started walking back towards the alley he and Draco had   
hidden in. He checked the parchment for enchantments, then unfolded it,   
finding only a hastily scribbled note:  
  
  
//Meet us at Barty's with Longbottom. We'll have the map.//  
  
  
Ron did a small double take, but recovered quickly. When he got back on   
the street, he found a huge crowd milling around the front of Neville's   
greenhouse. He managed to skirt most of the people, and as he   
approached the alley, he heard Draco talking to someone.   
  
"...you think you're doing here?" The familiar drawl seeped into the   
street. Ron rounded the corner just then and found Colin Creevey, of   
all people, standing there. He began to speak in a shaking voice.   
  
"I was here visiting Neville, and all of a sudden we were being   
attacked! It was just about the scariest thing ever! All of those   
people coming in all of a sudden, and the wall exploding, and then   
Neville told me to run out the back, and find you, but when I got out   
you were already gone and I couldn't find you right away because there   
were people running all over screaming and it was all very confusing,   
so I just sort of wandered around until I found you out there in the   
crowd, and then - "   
  
"Stop!" Draco broke into the rambling oration. He held up his hands.   
"Listen, that's really not important anyway, because you are leaving   
right now and going back to school."   
  
Ron looked from Colin to Draco in confusion. "Why were you visiting   
Neville?" he asked. Colin shrugged.   
  
Colin blushed a bit. "He's my best friend." Ron remembered the two of   
them hanging out a lot during the last couple of years.   
  
Colin turned to Draco and continued. "Which is why I'm going to stay   
here and help you. I can't just leave him all alone and afraid while   
those bastards that did this to him do all kinds of horrible things   
and..."   
  
"Hey!" Once again, Draco interrupted. "Sorry, Creevey, but Neville is   
going to have to be abandoned by you this time. Because you are *not*   
staying."   
  
"Why not?" Colin cried. "I won't mess anything up at all! Besides," he   
held up his camera bag, "You'll need me to help you gather evidence!   
I'm really good at that!"   
  
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Ron cut him off. "Guys. Let's   
argue about this somewhere else. Because we are going to have fifteen   
million ministry people crash this party in a few seconds." He was   
feeling edgy, having witnessed a particularly destructive kidnapping.   
Draco rested his hand over his eyes for a second, the only indication   
that he was distressed.   
  
He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and then nodded. "Right. You're   
right, Weasley. Come on. Both of you." He glanced out of the alley to   
check for people, than jogged down the street and around a corner. The   
other two followed him closely. Ron smiled to himself; he'd made Draco   
Malfoy admit that something he had said was right. ~Point for me!~ They   
wove through the narrow London streets, quickly. After only a few   
moments, Draco darted through the door of a dilapidated old apartment   
building. Ron glanced at Colin, who shrugged.   
  
Draco was waiting for them at the base of a very unsafe-looking set of   
stairs. "The elevator is broken," he apologized, and started up the   
stairs. Once again, Ron and Colin followed. They trudged up three   
flights of creaky stairs, and then down a very musty hallway. Draco   
pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door to   
apartment number 309. "Make yourselves at home," he said, flicking on a   
Muggle light and throwing his cloak onto an ancient couch. Colin asked   
for the bathroom, and when Draco told him the way, he scampered off.   
  
Ron sighed, and stuck his hands into his jacket pocket. He gave a start   
when his fingers brushed a bit of paper, and, remembering what it was,   
he quickly pulled it from his pocket and unfolded it.   
  
The note had been hurriedly scribbled on business stationary of some   
sort; there was a small graphic at the bottom. It was a small four-leaf   
clover, with the words 'Get Lucky' above it and 'At Barty's' beneath   
it.   
  
"Hey, Malfoy," he called, glancing around the room and finding himself   
alone. He walked through a door directly in front of him, and saw Draco   
standing in front of a Muggle refrigerator. Draco looked up at him   
expectantly.   
  
"Yes?" he asked, and then returned his attention to the contents of the   
fridge.   
  
"I found this bit of paper at Neville's, after he got captured, and   
it's a clue, it has to be. Because it's about Neville." That got   
Draco's attention, and he was instantly at Ron's side.   
  
"Let me see that!" Ron found the paper yanked from his fingers, and he   
looked up at Draco to retort. When he saw the look on the other boy's   
face, however, he became worried. Draco had gone chalk white, and his   
eyes were huge.   
  
"What's wrong?" he asked.   
  
"This. This is my father's handwriting."   
  
Ron got the impression that this was quite a horrible thing, because   
Draco looked ready to either pass out or kill someone. He had never   
seen Draco lose his self-control as often as he had today. ~But how   
much time have you ever actually *spent* with him before?~ He followed   
the blonde as he headed for the small table, and sat down next to him.   
~I don't even know why his reaction is worrying me so much.~ Ron began   
to chew on his lip nervously. Draco smoothed the note out on the table   
and bent over, studying it intently.   
  
Ron heard Colin walking towards them, and glanced up. Colin squeezed   
himself between the two occupied chairs. He stared curiously over   
Draco's shoulder. "Why are you getting notes about Neville from a   
brothel, Draco?" he asked, his voice full of innocent interest.   
  
Both Ron and Draco gawked at him openmouthed. Ron found his voice   
first. "What makes you think that this is from a brothel?" he asked.   
Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously, and Colin took a step backwards.   
  
"I saw an ad for it on TV when I was at home. And I only ever saw it   
once, and that was really accidental because it was the middle of the   
night and I was hungry, so I got up and heard my brother watching TV   
and I went to see if there was anything of any interest on, and when I   
walked in there was an ad for Barty's and of course they didn't call it   
a brothel, they called it a men's club, but well, seeing as what they   
offered I just sort of came up with that on my own, and then, right   
after that commercial was through the most embarrassing show came on   
about these people starkers in a hot tub and - "   
  
"Creevey!" Draco yelled. The boy stopped instantly, and looked   
positively terrified.   
  
"Yes?" he squeaked, his voice barely above a whisper.   
  
"Slow down, take a breath!" Colin took this advice and inhaled deeply.   
Draco continued. "Now, what makes you think that this Barty's place is   
the same one that you saw on television?"   
  
"I recognize that little clover thing."   
  
Draco nodded slowly. "And where can I find this place?"   
  
Colin shrugged. "I don't remember. I wasn't paying *that* much   
attention. But, I bet you could find it in a phone book or something."   
  
Ron watched Draco's face intently, fascinated by the way his emotions   
danced behind his eyes. The blonde tapped his forehead for a moment,   
and then stood up suddenly.   
  
"I have to think," he announced and disappeared through a door just   
outside the kitchen, leaving Ron and Colin together. Ron sighed   
inwardly, and laid his head down on the table. Colin took Draco's   
chair, and looked at Ron with concern.   
  
"Are you okay, Ron?" he asked, cautiously. Ron looked up at him,   
suddenly feeling exhausted.   
  
"Yeah. I'm all right. I just need to rest." Colin nodded, and then   
left. Ron gave a small, relieved sigh. He pillowed his head in his arms   
and fell asleep instantly.   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
  
Ron woke with a start, and the first thing he saw when he opened his   
eyes was Draco sitting in the chair next to him. The second thing he   
noticed was that the blonde smelled good. ~Gah. Not gonna think about   
that.~   
  
Draco turned and gave him a small, genuine-looking smile. "Sleep well?"   
he asked.   
  
Ron sat up slowly, noting the clenched muscles in his neck and   
shoulders. He groaned a bit, stretching and feeling his back pop. "I   
slept okay. Uh, how long did I sleep?"   
  
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. Probably about an hour. Maybe a bit   
more." He stood up and walked over the fridge again. This time he   
actually pulled something out, though Ron couldn't see what it was.   
  
He turned his back and began chopping something up on the cutting   
board. "Are you a virgin, Weasley?" he asked suddenly. Ron, taken aback   
by the question, was speechless. When no reply came, Draco turned and   
looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he asked.   
  
Ron blinked at him. "What the hell business is that of yours?" he   
asked, finding his voice.   
  
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Well, I really should have asked you that   
last night, but I forgot. And it's my business, because if you get   
caught, they'll use you for all kinds of nasty stuff if you are a   
virgin. It's really not pleasant at all." A dark look flickered across   
Draco's face.   
  
"Oh. Um. Well, no, I'm not." Ron said, a little awkwardly, and somewhat   
worried by the tone in Draco's voice. Draco nodded once and turned back   
to his work.   
  
Ron was left alone with his thoughts. He remembered the time during   
their last year that he and Seamus had been a couple. They had really   
had a lot of fun together. And the sex had been great too. He grinned,   
recalling the exuberance Seamus had in bed. And on the floor, and   
against the wall, and on tables, too.   
  
Draco spoke again. "Was it Potter?" he asked, eyeing Ron curiously.   
  
Ron felt his cheeks flush. "Like I'd tell you," he said, rolling his   
eyes. Draco simply shrugged.   
  
"Fine."   
  
Ron suddenly realized that he and Draco were alone in the room. "Where   
did Colin go?" he asked.   
  
Draco laughed. "He's ah...getting ready to initiate our plan of   
action." Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting his -- ~are   
we still enemies?~ -- his...cohort.   
  
"We have a plan of action?"   
  
"Yes. We most certainly do." Draco nodded, and set a plate of unevenly   
chopped vegetables down on the table.   
  
"Dare I ask what it is?" Ron asked as he checked over a carrot.   
  
Draco choked, trying to conceal his laughter. "No," he finally managed   
to gasp out.   
  
"Then what the hell - " He was cut off as Colin entered the room. At   
least, Ron was fairly certain it was Colin.   
  
He was dressed in a long, dark blue evening gown. It had long sleeves,   
and he wore a pair of black satin gloves over his hands. A large hat   
covered his short, light brown hair, making it look very stylish,   
indeed. He even had makeup on. Ron sat breathless for a moment, than   
burst into hysterical laughter.   
  
"You can't be serious!" Colin and Draco exchanged a Look.   
  
"Well," Draco began, "It's pretty simple, really..."   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
to be continued....teehee!  
  
(btw, sorry this was a bit delayed. I spontaneously went to a concert this evening, and so I didn't get all done till now. But here it is! Yay!) 


	4. deals with devils

Disclaimers and warnings in chapter 1.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
A great Hope fell  
You heard no noise   
The Ruin was within.   
  
- Emily Dickinson   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
The darkness was suddenly shot through with suddenly shot through with cold, pale streaks. Neville tried to open his eyes, but the light sent a jolt of pain through his head. Even after squeezing his eyes tightly shut again, he could feel the ache spreading through every centimeter of his brain and down to the base of his skull. He groaned and tried to roll away from the light, only to find that his wrists and ankles and been tightly bound with thick ropes. As he slowly regained consciousness, he began to register more pain; the bonds on his wrists were biting into his flesh, and he had a dull ache between his shoulder blades.   
  
He heard a rustling sound and then the low murmur of voices. He risked opening his eyes again, and the pain wasn't nearly as horrible as before. A shadow fell across his form, and, if he squinted, he could make out the shape of a large man towering over him. The man gave a small grunt, delivered a sound kick to Neville's bound legs, and walked away. A door opened, then shut heavily, and the room was blanketed in silence.   
  
After adjusting to the light, he managed to sit himself up against a wall, and he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a small room, lit only by a tiny, naked bulb hanging down. There was one tiny window near the ceiling, but the only light that shone through was starlight. 'I'd never be able to crawl through there.'  
  
He sighed, and rested his forehead on his knees, trying not to concentrate on pain. He soon found this nearly impossible, but it wasn't as bad as he'd thought. The more he focused on what hurt, the less it actually seemed to. It was as if he was chasing the ache on its chaotic journey through his nerves. He could almost see it; a little nervous system map etched behind his eyelids. Each facet of pain was a dark blot against the pure white, and he followed them diligently, squashing them into nothingness.   
  
He realized that he was hungry. ~I wonder how long it's been since I ate.~ He once again took inventory of his surroundings, and decided that he wasn't hungry enough to eat through the ropes binding him yet. He'd save that for a real emergency.   
  
He dozed off for a while soon after, and when he woke his head didn't hurt quite so badly. He was hungrier, and now he was absolutely terrified. Everything, even the sounds of his feet lightly scraping on the floor made his heart race, and he realized that there was a good chance he would be dead soon. He wanted to take his mind off of it, and fumed because he couldn't even pace about his tiny cell. He decided to sing; something chipper would do nicely.   
  
"One, two and three jolly coachmen sat in an English tavern,   
Three jolly coachmen sat in an English tavern,   
And they decided,   
And they decided,   
And they decided,   
To have another flagon."   
  
His voice echoed weirdly in the empty room. And, well, it was keeping him occupied, but it also served as a painful reminder that he was thirsty now. And that he may never have a never have another beer in his life. He sighed. He missed a lot of things, all of a sudden. Like the way that Justin would snuggle up to him on the couch when it was cold out, and just hold him. He wanted to feel those strong arms around him, holding him tight and keeping him safe.   
  
He once again put his head on his knees and turned his thoughts to the one thing that meant more to him in life than his next breath. Holding his memories close to his heart, he began to sleep lightly again.   
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
  
Neville woke suddenly when the door to his room opened. He groggily wondered why he was on the floor of Justin's apartment. He couldn't remember coming here for anything. Something was coming back to him, some sort of memory. He grasped at it mentally, trying to remember how he had ended up here with a pounding headache. And then suddenly he remembered what had happened. He could feel the roped biting into his wrists again, and winced.  
  
The door hinges squeaked, and his breath caught when two large men walked through it. They seemed to tower over him, blocking out everything. Their faces seemed devoid of emotion, though one of them did have a tiny sneer on his lips. ~Don't show them you're scared. Be brave, be brave, be brave...~ he chanted mentally, trying to draw strength from the thoughts.   
  
The two men came towards him, and one of them bent down to untie Neville's ankles. "Up." He said, and before Neville could even act on the command, the second man grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet. Without another word, they marched him from the room.   
  
"Where are you taking me?" Neville asked. The men said nothing, just continued to lead him down a plain hallway. His arms hurt where they were holding him, cutting off the circulation with their vise-like grips. He squirmed a bit, trying to get them to let up. It didn't work. Their faces remained devoid of emotion, their eyes focused straight forward. It seemed as if they didn't even know there was a third person with them.   
  
They turned at the end of a hallway, and Neville saw a corridor exactly like the one his room had been in. They continued down it, their pace never lagging, and then stopped abruptly. One of the men rapped on a plain maroon door, and it swung open on its own, spilling light over the three of them.   
  
Neville was pushed forward into the room, and he had to squint against the bright light. He tried to stop, but was shoved roughly in the back. As he moved forward, he saw a snug little room. A large, plush chair sat behind a large oak desk in the corner. Paintings of quiet country scenes hung on the walls, which were painted deep maroon. A large couch sat against one wall, and a small round table with cushioned chairs was next to it.   
  
Neville's escorts stopped in the middle of the room and stood absolutely still. He glanced from one to the other, wondering what was going to happen to him. He was concentrating very hard on not shaking. It wasn't working too well, and he thought his bones were about to rattle right out of his skin. He was about to ask what was going on when the door to the room opened, and Lucius Malfoy stepped in.   
  
Neville drew in a sharp breath. After his long conversations with Draco, he had more than enough reasons to hate and fear Lucius. He thought for a moment that his legs would give out. Lucius glanced at them, and then took the large chair behind the desk.   
  
Lucius folded his hands primly on the top of the desk, and quirked his lips into a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Longbottom." His smile grew almost imperceptibly. Why don't you take a seat?" He gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. Neville felt the hands holding him in place let go, but he stood still for a moment, too scared and angry and confused to do anything.   
  
He finally took a deep breath and sat down facing Lucius. Neville sat very stiffly, his back straight and his feet flat on the floor. He stared at a point on the wall just to the right on Lucius's head, not wanting to look into those cold gray eyes.   
  
"Mr. Longbottom. We need your help."   
  
Neville looked at Lucius. He could feel his surprise showing on his face. "What?" he asked, incredulously.   
  
Lucius smiled. "We need your help. Is that so hard to believe?" Neville narrowed his eyes and turned away again.   
  
"I'll never help you with anything." He hoped he came across as determined.   
  
"You haven't heard our offer yet." Lucius's voice was soft, but had a frightening edge to it. Neville raised his chin a bit as an answer. He stared at the wall again. "Mr. Longbottom. Look at me." Neville squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then turned. Lucius wasn't smiling anymore.   
  
"We can make life extremely difficult for you. If you'll simply agree to do what we want right now, you won't have to find out the hard way."   
  
Neville bit his lip, and narrowed his eyes. "I don't even want to hear what sort of scheme you have for me. I'll bloody well die before I'll ever do anything for you, or your little friends here."   
  
The look on Lucius' face became almost deadly. "You will be very, *very* sorry about that decision, young man."   
  
Neville shrugged. "Do what you want to me."   
  
"It's not you that you should be worried about." This dampened some of Neville's resolve, but he didn't say a word.   
  
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "You still aren't willing to help us at all?" Neville shook his head, trying to be brave. Lucius clucked his tongue. "That is a pity." He snapped his fingers and two Death Eaters came in, with a third person held tightly between them. Neville gasped when he saw Justin's face, the fear playing across his smooth, beautiful features. His curly brown hair was sticking out in every direction, some of it sweeping into his brown eyes. He had a large gash across his left arm, and a purple-blue bruise stained the pale skin of his neck.  
  
Justin looked up, and his eyes met Neville's. There was pain and fear etched around them. Neville swallowed deeply and then mouthed 'I love you' to him. Then he turned to Lucius.  
  
"If. If you kill him, you'll never get another god damned word out of me." Neville was furious, and scared, and Justin looked so fragile between the two thick-bodied men holding him.   
  
Lucius just smiled. "Whoever said anything about killing?" He turned lazily in his chair and pointed his wand at Justin. "Crucio," he said, his tone almost light. Justin screamed and fell to the floor, his face contorted with agony. His body began to spasm, and he cried out in pain repeatedly. His eyes were pinched closed, and he clutched his hands to his chest, as if trying to chase away the pain.  
  
"NO!" Neville cried, trying to rise, to get to his lover and sooth him and make it all better. A pair of strong hands came down hard on his shoulders, forcing him to sit. He kept his eyes on Justin, trying to give him strength. Lucius was looking at him again, an amused expression on his face.   
  
"You know what happens when you are under the Cruciatus spell for too long, Longbottom?" He paused, as if he expected a response. "You go insane," he continued. "You lose every memory of anyone you ever loved. Parents. Children. Lovers. All of it gone. But, you know all about that, don't you Mr. Longbottom?"   
  
Neville was too shocked to even react. He was surrounded by Justin's screams and images of his parents. And then he imagined Justin's eyes as empty as his mother's when she looked at him. He closed his eyes feeling tears begin to well up.   
  
"Okay." His voice was barely above a whisper.   
  
"What was that?"   
  
"Please. I'll do whatever you want. Just...don't hurt him anymore."   
  
Lucius looked at him for a long moment, than waved his hand. The two men surrounding Justin hauled him to his feet and shoved him roughly out the door. He could barely hold himself up.   
  
"I'm so glad we could come to an agreement, Mr. Longbottom. I think we'll both be happier for it." 


	5. bad omens

Disclaimers and warnings in chapter one, though this chapter does have violence.  
  
Dedicated to Chaser, cause she deserves it more than anyone. ^___^  
  
  
**  
  
"What used to be hope is now one more reason to fear."   
-Ashengrace, from "Murrain"   
  
**   
  
  
Ron nervously fiddled with the chain linking his wallet to his belt loop. He played his fingers over every link, listening to the gentle clink of metal on metal. He still wasn't sure that this plan would work; it was based largely on assumption. Of course, the few times he'd ever dealt with Death Eaters they had proven themselves remarkably stupid, but he didn't want to take any chances.   
  
A warm hand on his brought him from his thoughts, and his stomach lurched a bit at the contact. Draco eased the chain from Ron's fingers, and shook his head. "You worry too much, Weasley."   
  
Ron arched an eyebrow. "Is that a bad thing? I thought I was here to keep you on your toes, Malfoy." Draco gave a half-smile but said nothing. He let go of Ron's chain, and it fell against his leg with a dull jingle. Ron had to resist the urge to take it into his hands again. The cool metal helped to sooth his nerves.   
  
"Hey, let me see your wand," Draco said suddenly.   
  
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Why should I let you do that?"   
  
"Oh, honestly. First, you have to work with me, so you may as well trust me. And all I want to do is temporarily link our wands so that we'll be able to find each other if we get separated in there." He held out his hand expectantly.   
  
Ron sighed and handed over his wand. "I don't trust you yet, Malfoy," he said as he pulled his jacket closer around him. The wind had picked up.   
  
"Good!" Draco said happily, with a small smirk. He whispered a spell that Ron couldn't quite make out, then handed the wand back to its owner. "Just say my first name, and it will lead you right to me." Ron took it gingerly, half afraid that it would blow up as soon as he touched it. Draco just rolled his eyes. "If I was going to kill you, I'd at least wait until you had outrun your usefulness, Weasley," he drawled.   
  
Ron pocketed his wand and pointedly ignored the last remark. "Where on Earth has that kid gone off to?" he asked, impatiently scanning the street for Colin. Draco shrugged, looking bored. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and kicked at a crumpled up bit of paper with the toe of his shoe. Ron watched him from the corner of his eye, trying not to seem obvious. He was about to ask Draco if they should go searching for Colin when the boy showed up.   
  
He still looked very oddly beautiful. Somehow, none of his masculinity showed in his fair features. Ron figured it was just his age, though he knew he'd never be able to pull of an outfit like that, and he was only a year older. He heard Draco muffle a snicker. "What?" he asked, turning to the blonde.   
  
"Nothing. It just looks for all the world like you are giving Colin here the up and down. If you take my meaning." Ron felt his cheeks flush. He couldn't think up a good comeback, however, so he remained silent.   
  
Colin rolled his eyes at Draco and grabbed Ron's arm. "Hush! And, come on, we'd better hurry! We don't want anything to go wrong, do we?"   
  
Ron shook his head and started leading Colin towards Barty's. The man at the door looked the two of them over severely.   
  
"'Ow old are ye?" he asked, jutting his chin out at them.   
  
Ron tried to smile disarmingly. "We're both 19, just out for a bit of harmless fun." Next to him Colin giggled. The man narrowed his eyes at them, but finally waved them through the plain oak door. A scantily clad woman stood behind a tall counter. She winked at Ron, who blushed lightly.   
  
"Just tha two o' ya, then luv?" She asked silkily, and Ron just nodded and handed her some Muggle bills that Draco had given him. She laughed when she took the money. "To scared te even count et out fer me, eh?" She handed most of it back to him, and waved him towards the hallway. "Take aneh room yeh'd like, luvs. Weh've got lot's of space tonight, and all tha rooms are open!"   
  
Ron muttered a thank you and grabbed Colin's arm, pointing him down the hallway. Colin was shaking with quiet laughter, and Ron just shook his head. "What's so funny?"   
  
"You were blushing at her!" Colin kept on laughing. Ron just rolled his eyes. He paused to pull his wand out of his pocket, and whispered Draco's name softly. "What is that for?" Colin asked, looking with astonishment at the glowing end of Ron's wand.   
  
"It's so that we can find Malfoy," Ron replied, letting his arm go mostly slack so that he wouldn't interfere with the spell. "He was going to try to apparate in, but I'm not sure if he did or not."   
  
"Wow!" Colin said excitedly. "I didn't know you could do that with wands, that's so cool and stuff! Gosh!"   
  
Ron laughed gently. "Me neither. I guess you learn strange spells when you're the son of a Death Eater, though." He shrugged and led them down another hallway.   
  
"Hey, speaking of which," Colin said, "Do you know why he's doing this? I've talked to Neville about him before, so I trust him, but I want to know what happened between him and his father, because something horrible must have happened for him to be so against the Death Eaters now, especially when they're getting as powerful as-" He broke off when he bumped into Ron. "Why did you stop?" he asked.   
  
Ron was thinking about what Colin had just said. ~Those are definitely questions worth asking.~ He glanced at Colin. "Sorry, I was just thinking." He bit his lip and started walking again. About halfway down the hall he came to a stop outside a doorway. "Here's hoping it's not occupied," he said with a small chuckle. He rapped heavily on the door, and after hearing nothing, he opened the door and poked his head in. When he saw for sure that it was empty, he followed his wand towards the window at the far side of the room. Pushing aside the curtain, he found a rather flustered looking Draco.   
  
"What's got your knickers in a twist, Malfoy?" he whispered after pushing the window open. Draco looked over at him, and blinked, his face almost instantly resolving itself to the normal unperturbed look.   
  
"There's an anti-apparating spell around the building." He gave a tiny sigh, and climbed through the window. On the way in, his pants leg caught on a nail, and he fell into an unceremonious heap on the floor.   
  
"This is hardly appropriate behavior for the self-proclaimed savior of everything, you know," Ron said, and then helped Draco to his feet.   
  
Draco brushed himself off and nodded at Ron. "Yes, well. I don't believe this was actually in the original job description." He picked his way towards the door, glancing disdainfully at a gaudy painting on the wall. It was a profile of sorts, but the colors where bright turquoise and violent pinks. "Who decorated this place, anyway? I feel like I'm in a really cheap hotel."   
  
"You basically are." Ron laughed softly. "It's not like the people who come here do it for the décor, after all."   
  
Draco snickered and walked out the door, nearly running face first into Colin. "Creevey! Watch out." He shook his head and glanced down the hallway, muttering something about always going up.   
  
Ron and Colin shrugged at each other, and then followed Draco as he slowly walked toward the end of the hallway. They found themselves at a very dark and dingy old stairway that didn't look like it had been stepped into in years. Ron raised an uncertain eyebrow at Draco, who merely shrugged and started upwards.   
  
The stairs creaked a little beneath their feet and the air suddenly smelled stale, as if they had just entered an ancient cellar and not just an unused stairwell. The three of them measured their steps carefully, and not even Colin made a sound. When they reached the second floor landing, Draco motioned them to stop and pressed his ear against the door. Ron thought he looked rather silly like that, but kept the amusement off of his face, watching intently. After a moment, the blonde nodded and they moved silently into a hallway identical to the one they had just left.   
  
"Let's spread out and try the doors," Draco said softly, and he began to walk along one row of doors, checking each one. Ron took the opposite side of the hall, and Colin trailed along behind him. Every door they tried was locked. As they neared the end of the hallway, Ron began to feel a slight tension in the air, as if the temperature had changed a few degrees and the oxygen had become electrically charged. He looked at Draco curiously, wondering if he was the only one who could feel it. Draco was staring back at him, his head slightly cocked as if he were listening for something.   
  
"What is it?" Ron whispered, walking up to Draco.   
  
"It's dark magic, Weasley," was the soft reply. Together they peeked around the corner and down another hallway. "Be careful," Draco mouthed, and they started down it slowly.   
  
Three doors down, Ron tried a handle and it gave under his hand, the heavy door swinging inwards. He motioned for Draco and Colin to join him, pulled out his wand, and quietly entered. The room was brightly lit, with a crackling fire in the hearth. Ron had never seen a hotel room with a fireplace before, but, after glancing around quickly, he realized that they had entered the front room of a large suite. A desk sat against the far wall, with a high backed chair behind it. It was otherwise quite sparsely decorated, with only a couch before the hearth.   
  
Ron hurried over to the desk and glanced down at the papers. It was littered with scrawled-upon scraps and maps of what looked like Greece. He recognized some of the handwriting as that of Lucius Malfoy, based on the note he'd found earlier in the day. With a suppressed shudder, he motioned Colin to take pictures of the papers on the desk. He sat down in the large chair and picked one up, deciphering the barely legible scrawl.   
  
"Pandora's Box," he read aloud softly. He was about to continue when voices began to echo down the hallway, quickly growing louder. Draco was at Ron's side instantly, and had hold of Colin's arm.   
  
"We have to hide *now!*" he said, pulling at Ron's shirt. They ran towards the closet, hoping to jump inside, but before they made it, two Death Eaters walked into the room. They registered the intruders' presence and had their wands out instantly, pointing them directly at Ron. Before he could react, he felt Draco shove him aside and run past dragging Colin and yelling curses. Both men fell, one merely stunned. Draco bounded past them towards the fire.   
  
"Come on!" he shouted at Ron, who jumped to his feet and ran towards the other two. He watched Draco throw floo powder into the fire and say "Afirtum," pulling a very confused Colin after him. He threw the powder down for Ron, who was nearly there when he was tackled from behind. The force of the assault knocked both Ron and his attacker down, and Ron noticed that something flew past him from the Death Eater and landed above his head.   
  
The man's arms were wrapped around Ron's legs tightly, and with a yell, he pulled one leg free and kicked his attacker in the head hard. He yanked his other leg free and hurried towards the fire on his hands and knees. The Death Eater grabbed at Ron's feet and started to pull him backwards. Ron grasped desperately at the carpet and his hand suddenly encountered what the man had dropped: his gun. With a strangled cry, he turned, aimed the gun towards the other man, and pulled the trigger.   
  
The recoil almost knocked him onto his back. The Death Eater's chest was wet with blood, and he sputtered a moment before falling onto his side, his lifeless eyes trained onto Ron's. His blood had spattered all over Ron's clothes and he could feel it, cold, against his skin. With a gasp he shook himself free of the dead man's grasp, picked up the floo powder, and with a final glance backwards at the three bodies, he followed Draco.   
  
  
(A/N I feel it is necessary to assure you all that I will be updating this story with much more regularity from here on out. That's a promise. ^^) 


	6. tension

Disclaimers and whatnot in chapter one. Hee.   
  
**  
  
"The rhythm persisted, the unfaltering common meter of blues, but the blueness itself, the sorrow, the despair, began to give way to hope."   
- Rudolph Fisher  
  
**  
  
Ron kept his eyes open as long as he could without getting soot in them. When he finally saw Draco's face, he lunged out of the fire, toppling onto his hands and knees. He was dragged to his feet by two sets of hands and shoved towards the door. Through the rush of sensations, he felt warm breath on the back of his neck and Draco's soft, urgent voice. "Push on, Weasley, we've got to get back to my place, come on..."  
  
Ron nodded at the words, barely registering his surroundings as the three of them hurried through the frigid night. He followed Draco and Colin numbly, and every time he blinked, he caught a glimpse of the man's dead eyes.  
  
The darkness seemed to envelope them as they made their way through it, and Ron kept imagining shadows jumping towards him. He wanted to grab on to Draco's coat, make sure that he was still alive, and make sure that if anything attacked him it would have to go through Draco as well. He wasn't keen on dying alone.  
  
After several sharp turns off their path, "just in case," they reached Draco's building and made their way quickly up he steps to his ramshackle apartment. Ron shakily went to the kitchen and turned on the sink, filling a glass with cool water and then dunking his head under the heavy stream. He felt the water running over his scalp and several small trickles moving down the back of his neck and under his shirt. The sound of the water drumming in his ears effectively cut off Colin's excited yammering, and Draco's attempts to get him to sleep.  
  
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, trying to forget the way blood had blossomed in a pattern that was almost lovely across the dead man's chest when Draco pulled him away from the sink. "What the hell are you doing, Weasley?" he asked as Ron shook the water from his eyes. "Were you hurt or something? You're covered in blood."  
  
Ron grabbed his glass of water and sat down at the table with a half-hysterical laugh. "It's not my blood, I'm fine." He rose the cup to his lips, mindless of the fact that his hands were quite visibly shaking.  
  
Draco sat down across the table from Ron and looked at him searchingly. "You don't look fine. What happened when we left?"  
  
"I was right behind you," Ron said, speaking softly and trying to keep his voice steady. "And I was almost to the fireplace and a third Death Eater tackled me from behind. No idea where he came from..." He stared at the tabletop, closely tracing the wood grains in a desperate attempt to distract his distraught mind.  
  
"Uh huh," Draco prompted softly, and Ron sighed.  
  
"And we wrestled around for awhile and he was about to get the upper hand, so I picked up his gun and shot him." Ron finished his story quickly, ashamed of the way his voice cracked and the way his eyes began to sting.  
  
"Uh huh." Draco's voice was flat and emotionless, a striking contrast to Ron's emotion-laden confession. "No idea at all who he was, then?" Ron shook his head, his eyes still unwaveringly focused on the tabletop. "Well, good riddance, anyway. One less idiot in the world."  
  
Ron finally looked up at him, his face lined with feeling. "How can you say things like that? For crying out loud, the man is dead! What if...what if he had a family, Malfoy? Or a mother somewhere? What if he had lived and...and...and quit the life of crime and found a cure to the common cold or something!" Ron felt a few tears slip down his cheeks, but for the first time he couldn't bring himself to care. "God, you're acting like all that happened was...something simple! It's not! I fucking stole his life; I pointed that gun at him and I made the decision that he wouldn't live anymore..." He trailed off, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. He crossed his arms and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, shaking his head. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."  
  
He distantly heard the chair that Draco was sitting in scrape across the floor and hoped almost desperately that Draco was leaving. He didn't hear anything, no footsteps or even rustling clothing for a moment, and so nearly jumped out of his chair when he felt a gust of warm breath on the back of his neck. Despite his upset state of mind, he couldn't repress the small shiver that worked its way slowly down through his body from the nape his neck. He realized that Draco was standing right behind him, leaning over, so close...  
  
"What, Malfoy?" he whispered, trying to hide the tiny vibration of excitement in his voice.  
  
"You've never killed anyone before?" Draco was also whispering, and his breath ghosted across Ron's skin and made it tingle. Ron bit his lip and barely shook his head. He wished that he could see Draco, see his eyes, and see if he was teasing on purpose. He was about to turn to look at the blonde when he felt a heavy weight on his back, as if Draco were resting his folded arms across Ron's shoulder blades. Ron squirmed uncomfortable, but Draco's weight only shifted slightly.  
  
And then he felt warm breath on his cheek. Draco was most definitely leaning over him, very closely, and through the corner of his eye Ron could make out Draco's profile. He could hear Draco's breath in his ear, shallow and almost imperceptible when mingled with the susurration of his blood.   
  
"Well, Weasley," Draco whispered, and Ron could imagine his soft, pale lips mere centimeters from his ear. "I never said this job would be easy." Ron shivered, barely registering the words themselves. "You'll get used to it," Draco continued, and then paused, his breath still tickling the inside of Ron's ear. "I'm sorry, though." And with those words, Draco walked away, leaving a very confused and slightly aroused redhead behind.  
  
**  
  
Draco stalked into his bedroom, his eyes narrowed and teeth clenched tightly. He only just managed not to slam the door before sitting down with his back against it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on them, curling his fingers into his hair. He had to think, he had to collect himself; he was acting stupidly.  
  
God fucking damn Weasley and his fucking innocence.  
  
He couldn't decide what was worse, the fact that the loss of such innocence was his fault, or the fact that it had excited him so much. "You're a sick fuck," he said softly. He couldn't help but think that, had it been anyone else, he wouldn't feel this way. He wouldn't feel so goddamned conflicted. He wouldn't have wanted to kiss away the tears and whisper stupid nothings to him and take all of the horrible thoughts and make them pure again. Like that was even possible; everything Draco Malfoy touched turned to ash these days.  
  
"Only proves how messed up I am. I get my jollies off by desecrating perfection." That thought scared him more than any other. He would not ever become like his father. He would never condone the careless destruction of life that his father was so fond of.  
  
"And that's why you're going to keep your hands to yourself, Draco." With a decisive nod, he picked himself up and made his way to bed.  
  
**  
  
Ron had no idea how long he had been sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, his face buried in his arms. He was so horribly confused, and no matter how hard he tried, his train of thought kept moving from the dead man to the wonderful feeling Draco pressed up against him. With a sharp shake of his head, he sat up and sighed.  
  
Goddamn Malfoy and his bloody teasing.  
  
He had to do something; his thoughts were starting to ring too loudly in his ears. He stretched his arms up above his head, feeling his muscles extend and then bent over, letting the blood rush to all of the newly awakened muscles. He closed his eyes and thought back to what he'd seen before the Death Eaters had come in. The scrap of paper with the words Pandora's box written on it and the maps of Greece.   
  
Ron straightened and pursed his lips, thinking back to what he'd learned of Mythology. It wasn't much; he had tried to avoid classes like that in school. He did, however, know someone who had taken three years of Mythology classes. A glance at the clock above the doorway told Ron that it was 5:30 in the morning, but with a small shrug he decided to go anyway. This was very important, and he was bored and needed to do something before he went insane.  
  
He went to the small living room and started poking through a chest full of clothing, hoping to find something to change in to and that would fit him. He finally came up with a faded pair of jeans that were actually a bit baggy on him, a dark green, long-sleeved turtleneck, and a plain black t-shirt. He quickly changed out of the suit he was wearing and then made his way back to the kitchen to write Draco a short note, describing where he was going. He made one last stop at the living room chest for a long jacket and then went on his way.  
  
He left the apartment quietly, not wanting to arouse suspicion from any of the other tenants in the building. Being quiet on the ancient stairs was something of a difficult proposition, but Ron managed it without a lot of effort. When he stepped out the door and onto the street, he could barely see. Two street lamps lit the block, the rest having burned out. He couldn't see the moon or any stars, and it was rather creepy.  
  
~It's always darkest the hour before dawn,~ he thought, and pulled the coat more tightly around him. The air was calm but frigid, biting at his exposed skin as if it were angry with him for being outside. Angry at him for disturbing its silent requiem for the night. The narrow street reminded him of a sort of grim parody of a river, the frost dampened pavement glittering spookily underneath one of the lamps. He paused for a moment beside the pole, eerie light washing over his pale skin and creating weird shadows around his feet.   
  
He shivered and pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck, trying to ward off the biting cold and trying to make himself impervious to anything that was lurking in the shadows of the ancient buildings around him. With a last glance around, he stepped off of the curb and crossed the street quickly, hurrying away from the spine-chilling road. He measured his steps carefully, each footfall ringing in his ears. He knew that he was being silly, that he was simply unnerved by what had happened to him earlier, but that didn't make it easier to be in the dark.   
  
Ron turned sharply down an alley and saw bright lights at the other end, beckoning him warmly. He nearly ran for it, dodging piles of trash and a stray cat on the way. When he stepped from the darkness, he found himself in a place he knew; he was two streets over from where Harry lived. He gave a deep sigh of relief and quickly noted that every light on this street worked.   
  
He hurried down the sidewalk, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets as he headed towards his destination, more determined than before to get there without incident. 


	7. getting Help

Disclaimers in chapter one. (I still don't get them, dangit!)  
  
Spayshal thanks to Chaser, for just being the coolest ever, and Tasnim, my wife ;) lol and Irda, the way spiffy president of my fanclub, and Jair, who really should sleep more lol. You guys rock!   
  
**  
  
Hold your head high, stick your chest out. You can make it. It gets dark sometimes but morning comes. . . . Keep hope alive.   
- Jesse Jackson  
  
**  
  
Ron stood shivering on the porch of a small, single story house. He'd managed to make his way on brightly lit streets and the edges of the sky were beginning to grow brighter, but the chill never left the air. He had his arms wrapped tightly around his body, trying vainly to keep his body heat from escaping as he waited. He knew someone was home; a light had come on shortly after his second ring.   
  
The door finally opened and Ron found himself face to face with a very sleepy, rumpled looking Hermione. He grinned and held his arms open for a hug, but she just stood in the doorway, staring at him blankly.   
  
"What. The. Hell?" she said finally. Ron sighed and dropped his arms, all hope of a warm welcome lost.  
  
"Um. Hiya, 'Mione. Can I maybe come in for awhile, it's cold out here and I need to ask you something." He adopted his best puppy dog look, batting his eyelids, and with a sigh she stood aside and let him in. He hurried past her, desperate to get warm again. Hermione showed him into the sitting room and started a fire, sting down in a large armchair and motioning for Ron to do the same. He took the chair next to hers and, after several minutes of companionable silence, she spoke.  
  
"That god-awful job of yours has finally driven you completely bonkers, hasn't it, dear?" Ron looked up at her, surprised by the tone in her voice. She was looking at him with a bit of amusement mixed with pity. Ron just laughed.  
  
"What makes you think that?" he asked with a chuckle.   
  
"Well! You show up on my doorstep at six o'clock in the morning, dressed like some sort of Muggle teenager with a half-crazed look in your eye and looking like you could do with a long, hot shower, and you expect me to think that everything's just fine?"  
  
Ron actually laughed outright, the humor of the situation striking him with her words. "Hermy, I'm probably more sane now than I have been for months. Or, well...more comfortable, anyway." He chuckled again, and this time Hermione joined him.   
  
"Oh, Ron, it's so wonderful to hear you laugh again." She beamed at him from under her unruly, curly hair. "Hearing that sound almost makes getting up this early worth it." Ron smiled at her, remembering the similar conversation that he'd had with Harry only the day before. Freedom sure had a way of changing people for the better, apparently, and it amused Ron that it had taken his most bitter rival to initiate that change in him.   
  
Hermione was staring at him quizzically again, as if wondering what he wanted. He shrugged. "I suppose you're wondering what I want." She nodded. "Well, I wanted to ask you some stuff, and um. Yeah."  
  
"And this stuff couldn't wait two more hours?" She sighed when Ron shook his head seriously. "Okay, ask away, I'll do what I can with a sleep-deprived brain."   
  
"Oh, hush. You do fine with any kind of brain." They both grinned, glad to be bantering again. "Anyway, um, I need to know as much as you can tell me about the myth of Pandora's box. I know that I knew all of that stuff at one point, but lack of interest and endless days of dull labor has erased it."  
  
Hermione rose an eyebrow. "I can't imagine why you would need to know anything about that with this much urgency, but um." She glanced at him and saw the determination in his eyes. "I'm not going to ask. Let's see what I can remember, here." She paused and chewed on a fingernail for a moment, lost in thought.  
  
"Okay, there are a lot of different versions of the story, but they all involve a woman named Pandora, obviously. In most versions, she was supposedly the first mortal woman ever created and was given a box full of all sorts of unpleasant things, plagues and pestilence and the like. There was only one good thing mixed in with all of those horrors, and that thing was hope. When she opened the box, hope was the only thing that she managed to save. According to the legend, that's why horrible things exist today, because they escaped from Pandora's box and flew out to inhabit the earth."  
  
Ron drew his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. "Well...but how come it's a good thing that she trapped hope? Wouldn't it have been better if it had escaped too?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. "Well, not really I suppose; if hope had escaped than no one would know where to find it, would they? With it safe in its box, people can be comforted, because hope is safe. It isn't fleeting. Or something, of course, it's just a story."  
  
Ron nodded. "Yeah. Have you got any books about it or anything that I could borrow for awhile?"  
  
"You want to borrow..." Hermione's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair. "I'll be damned, Ron, whatever this is, I hope you get to the bottom of it soon. It's really gone to your brain." She stood up and shuffled out of the room, calling "I'll be right back!" over her shoulder.  
  
Left along, Ron tried to connect some of what he had just found out to what he knew. He cursed silently, wishing that he'd had more time to read the papers on that desk at Barty's. He really wanted to think that maybe the Death Eaters were going to go searching for the box itself, but he cast that idea off as silliness. It was just a myth, and while that was the most logical train of thought he could come up with, it didn't seem to make much sense. ~When has anything like this ever made sense, though?~  
  
He heard Hermione coming back in, and turned to see if she needed any help. In her hands was a large book bag that looked mostly full. She plunked it down on the floor in front of Ron with a friendly smirk.  
  
"Bit of light reading for you, there. I found all of my old textbooks and threw in some others I had lying around. Hope they help, at least some."  
  
Ron jumped to his feet and gave her a tight hug. "Thank you so much! You're the greatest, you know that?"  
  
He felt her laugh against his shoulder and pulled away. "Of course I do," she said lightly. "Where would you be without me, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
"I'd be hopelessly lost, that's where," he replied with a grin. They stood together for a few minutes, both thinking about their old days in school. Finally, though, Hermione spoke.  
  
"Well, Ron, I really am glad that you stopped by, but I'm going to go back to bed and I'm sure you'd like to get started right away on all that reading." He nodded and picked up the bag, grinning as his friend shooed him towards the door. They stopped on the porch, staring up at the hazy dawn light.  
  
"Have you got a boyfriend these days?" Hermione asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the pastel clouds above them.  
  
Images of Draco bending over him flashed through Ron's mind. Draco's comfortable weight against him, his intoxicating smell, his fathomless gray eyes, his soft lips..."No, not really." Ron shook his head and glanced over at her. "You?"  
  
She chuckled. "Nope. But that's all right." They nodded together, neither looking at the other. "Well, good luck with everything, Ron."  
  
"Hey, thank you, you're a lifesaver. Really!"  
  
She smiled and shook her head. "Bye!" He held his hand up and smiled as she shut the door, amazed at what wonderful friends he had been blessed with.  
  
The trip back to Draco's was much less distressing, mostly because the sun was beginning to rise. The streets were beginning to come alive again; a coffee shop owner was standing in the window looking for customers, and a homeless man sat beside an old trashcan, soaking in the early morning light. Ron moved as quickly as he could down the empty streets, taking a slightly different route on the off chance that one of his nightmares with empty eyes was waiting along his previous one.  
  
When Ron finally pushed open the apartment door, he saw Draco sitting on the couch holding the note. He looked up blearily and Ron had to hold back the urge to laugh. Draco looked like he had just woken up. His hair was mussed up, almost in a blonde parody of Harry's, and his features were dull with sleepiness.  
  
Ron glanced at his watch; he'd been gone for nearly an hour. He set his bag down and walked over to his sleepy associate. "How sweet, you decided to wait up for me," he quipped with a grin.  
  
Draco raised a bleary eyebrow. "You know, Weasley, I've had this little suspicion that there's someone else..." he trailed off and grinned. Ron just rolled his eyes and sat down next to Draco, his arms crossed over his knees. He stared blankly at the carpet for a few moments until Draco's voice broke into his thoughtless daze.   
  
"Hey, Weasley?" Ron looked over at him his eyebrow quirked slightly in a silent invitation to continue. Draco made a very serious face and rested one hand comfortably on Ron's shoulder. "You look like shit." Ron stared at him for a moment and then burst into half-hysterical laughter.   
  
"Yeah...go figure..." Ron shook his head and stood up, stretching. "I'm going to borrow your shower, 'k, Malfoy?" Draco nodded and waved at him somewhat dismissively.   
  
"Yeah. You should probably sleep too; you can just use my bed. I haven't got any other spares; Creevey's on the couch right now." Draco pointed towards his room. "Just don't break anything, Weasley..."  
  
Ron gave him a withering look and very eloquently flipped Draco off before heading into the bathroom. He carefully locked the door before stripping down and turning on the water. A glance in the mirror stopped him before he stepped into the tub, and he turned completely to face his reflection.   
  
It seemed strange to him that his mental projection of himself was so completely different from what he saw in the mirror. He reached up and poked at his cheeks and eyebrows, and tangled a strand of bright red hair around his fingers. He didn't *look* like a murderer...  
  
Even his eyes were different than he thought they should be. When he thought of them, he thought of something more...dull. Less interesting than the amber color that they were. Harry used to tell him that even his eyes were like fire, and they'd go a shade darker when he was angry or upset. Ron had just shrugged that off; after all, nothing about him was as interesting as that.  
  
But...he noticed as he poked at his face that they were a slightly different shade than usual. With a sigh and a shake of his head he turned away and stepped under the heavy shower, wincing a little at first because of the hot temperature of the water. He made no move to turn it down, instead making sure that the heat beat at every inch of his skin. He wanted to be completely clean of everything that had happened, and he scrubbed frantically at his legs and abdomen, even after all the tiny spots of blood were gone.  
  
He stayed in the shower until the hot water began to cool and his skin was practically numb from the heat and scrubbing. As he stepped out and began to towel off, his eyes traveled the length of his body slowly, taking in the bright red skin and white splotches where circulation had been interrupted. He looked awful, and felt awful, and needed to sleep before he fell over in the middle of the bathroom. Without another glance, he pulled on a pair of dark blue boxers and padded out of the bathroom, holding his clothes in a small bundle under his arm, and headed for Draco's room.   
  
He tossed the bundle of clothing in the corner and glanced around the room, curious despite his need for sleep. On the wall hung an ornate picture of a tiger with Chinese lettering across the top, and a poster with five nuns holding shotguns and the words 'Rage Against the Machine' underneath them. He made a note to ask Draco about that when he woke up. The rest of the room was very uninteresting: a small dresser in the corner, and some other clothes scattered across the floor. The slight untidiness surprised Ron a little, he'd always taken Draco to be a blatant neat freak. Even his fingernails were clean, he remembered with a little grin.  
  
Shrugging, he pushed the door shut and toppled onto the soft bed, pulled the comforter and sheets up to his chin and, for the first time in his life, he fell asleep wrapped completely and comfortably in someone else's scent. 


	8. stages

Disclaimers and warnings in chapter one.  
  
Notes: A million, million thanks to Kimagure for the beta, she absolutely rocks. And hey, it's almost done.   
  
**  
  
The most absurd and the most rash hopes have sometimes been the cause of extraordinary success. - Marquis de Vauvenargues  
  
**  
  
The kitchen table was strewn with photographs of all different sizes when Ron sat down across from Draco, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily. Draco and Colin were pouring over the books that Hermione had loaned them, and each was taking notes as they read.  
  
"Morning," Draco said, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Sleep well?"  
  
Rom simply nodded and pulled a book over. He opened it up and stumbled his way through a random paragraph, registering almost none of the words before shutting the heavy volume with a sigh. "D'you have any coffee, Malfoy?"   
  
"Yes." Draco pointed to a corner, and Ron could see a coffee pot under a row of cabinets. "Cups are above it; it might be a little cold though. Help yourself."  
  
A few minutes later he returned to the table with his cup, already feeling a little more awake. "What've you guys got so far?" he asked curiously, looking at the photographs. Colin looked up at him with a sigh.  
  
"A whole lot of nothing, that's what. I mean, really, who even knows what sort of things to look for?" He adopted a ferocious pout and then turned back to his book, perusing it very seriously.  
  
"Much as I hate to agree with Creevey, he's right for the most part." Draco sighed and shoved a pile of photographs toward Ron. "We have maps of Greece, which I suppose makes sense, since we're supposing this has something to do with that myth. Beyond that..." Draco trailed off and motioned to the cluttered table.  
  
Ron nodded and pulled a pile of books and pictures towards him. He hadn't ever been really good at this research stuff, but then again, he'd never thought that it would be terribly useful in the real world. ~Oh well,~ he thought. ~Better get used to it sometime.~  
  
**  
  
"Wait." Draco's voice broke through Ron's concentration an hour later, and he glared up at him. It was more out of habit than irritation, and he quickly shook the look away, waiting for Draco to continue with whatever epiphany had entered his mind. "Well! What if we're going about this wrong? I mean, they've got Neville, right? So that must mean they need a special plant of some kind, and plants are often used in potions...I think it'd be a good idea to narrow our search to potions or spells having to do with that.  
  
All that seemed to make sense to Ron, and he said so as he pulled a new book over. He figured that it'd at least give him something new to think about.   
  
Two and a half hours later, he wasn't convinced. He'd been looking through an encyclopedia of spells and potions, but had yet to find anything at all even remotely helpful. ~One more page, and then I'm giving this book to Colin.~ He decided just to skim this page, too; it looked just like all the rest of them had. As he ran his eyes down the paper, a parenthetical reference caught his attention. He read the entry above it, and his heart skipped a beat.  
  
"Guys." Draco and Colin both looked up at him, looking rather relieved for the break. "Listen to this: 'Captus Esperus is a mythical potion, said to have been created by the demigod Strife. When ingested on a specific day, it makes a person an alternative receptacle for hope. It is said that, when mixed with several complicated enchantments, a  
person with the Captus Esperus potion would be able to control hope after receiving it. No one has ever found or created a recipe for Captus Esperus.'" He paused, and then continued on his own. "So...technically, whoever has this potion thing will be a human version of Pandora's Box, and will be able to...take hope away? Or give certain people hope?" He looked up to see their reactions.  
  
"Weasley..." Draco grinned. "I think you've found it!" Ron grinned back and Colin was bouncing in his chair. "I just wish that there were a way to be more certain."  
  
They all sat thoughtfully for a while. Colin picked up a stack of photographs and started to flip through them slowly, while Draco and Ron just sat thinking. After a moment, Colin thunked a picture down in the center of the table, grinning triumphantly.  
  
At first glance, it looked like nonsense, but when Ron looked more closely, he could see a mostly covered sheet of parchment, with the letters "perus" showing near the top, and what looked like the ends of potion ingredients disappearing behind the edge of a map.  
  
The three of them just sat grinning together for a long time after that.  
  
**  
  
Later that afternoon, Draco pulled Ron aside. "Weasley, you need to talk to Creevey and get him back to the school. There's no way he's coming with us on this one, and you'd be the best one to tell him."  
  
After Ron left to talk to Colin, Draco started to go through his sparse belongings, having no idea what sort of things they would need on this little outing. He decided to be on the safe side and started filling a large bag with weapons that he'd stolen from his father before going to the Ministry. Everything that he'd taken had been enchanted somehow,  
but it was amazing what the Ministry was willing to do for a guy as soon as he'd sold his soul to them.  
  
He decided, as he pulled two 9mm semi-automatics from his drawer, that he'd certainly been underestimating Muggles in the past. They might not have magical abilities, but they'd developed effective enough means of destroying each other that they deserved at least a little of his respect. He wondered briefly if Ron would need much practice and decided with a smirk that he'd proven himself quite able to use one the night before. With a grin he sat the guns aside and finished packing up the bag.  
  
Draco was just setting the bag on the couch when Ron and a very glum looking Colin walked in. He tried his best to smile reassuringly at the young man. "Sorry, Creevey. It's not that we don't think you could handle yourself, you know." Colin seemed to perk up a bit at that. "We just don't want to worry Dumbledore or anything like that. Besides, we  
may need a man on the inside of Hogwarts, if things get bad. You understand."  
  
Colin grinned and threw his arms around Draco in a tight hug. "Thanks! Good luck with everything, and owl me posts, will you? I need to be kept up to speed if I'm to be of any use to you, you know! And make sure you take care of Neville, will you?"  
  
Draco just blinked and patted Colin's back gingerly. "Right," he said." Now let go." He brushed off the front of his shirt as Colin backed away. "D'you want us to take you to a floo entrance?"  
  
"Nope." Colin shook his head and slipped his camera around his neck. "I know where one is. But thanks!" He nearly bounded over to the door, and Draco felt Ron step up next to him. "Let me know as soon as something happens!" Without waiting for a response, Colin disappeared through the door.  
  
"How can anyone have that much energy?" Draco asked, staring at the closed door. He glanced over at Ron and was rather surprised to see the redhead blush and look away quickly.   
  
"I dunno..." Ron mumbled, and as he started to turn away, Draco grabbed his arm. The look on Ron's face was perfect, he thought. Confused and curious and just the slightest bit excited... The epitome of innocence. He grinned and against his better judgment, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Ron's.  
  
Ron's eyes went wide at the contact, and he gasped lightly but didn't pull away. Draco wondered briefly why that was and then decided he didn't give a shit. He turned and snaked his other arm around Ron's neck, pulling the slightly taller body closer, and was delighted when Ron suddenly started hungrily kissing him back.  
  
Draco let go of Ron's arm and reached up to tangle his fingers through the soft, red hair. He made a small sound in the back of his throat when Ron wrapped his arms around his body, his hands resting on the small of his back.  
  
They stood there, kissing, for what felt like an eternity to Draco, and no matter how many conclusions he attempted to reach, he couldn't find a single bad thing about it. 


End file.
